Pretense
by Kalysia
Summary: Even perfection has its price. EdwardxEnvy.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist is property of Hiromu Arakawa, Bones, Funimation, and all those affiliated. I only lay claim to the compilation of words within this story.

Warnings: Yaoi, angst, incest, language.

Author's Notes: This is going to sound a bit harsh, and I sincerely apologize to anyone that I may offend, but I feel that it needs to be said. First and foremost, "I am pleased to write. I do not write to please." In other words, if you have a problem with the elements of this piece, (i.e. you do not like the pairings, yaoi and/or incest disgust you, etc.), I do not care. Save me a headache, and do not complain. I am writing this piece for fun, not to hear about how my taste in this or that does not live up to another's standards. I apologize if I sound rude, but I would just like to save all of us a lot of time, by saying that flames are not helpful, in the slightest.

Now, getting off of my soapbox, I would like to say, to those of you whom I did not just scare off, that helpful, constructive criticism is just fine. Suggestions are also welcomed, as well your regular old run of the mill comments. Aside from that, I hope that you enjoy your read!

* * *

The golden eyed boy stared up at the massive Gate. The Gate, the Keeper of the Truth, the Great Temple of Alchemy, and the current bane of his existence.

"Give me my brother back!" he demanded of the Wisdom. "I want my brother back!" He was desperate, wanting nothing more than to see his brother again, to inhale the other boy's scent, to look into his eyes, and to feel his true warmth.

Tear formed around the edges of those golden windows, and the boy choked back a sob. "…Please…" he pleaded, his true desperation beginning to override his anger and impatience. "…I just want my brother back…" With that, he hung his head, and clenched his eyes shut. He willed his tears back, with all of his dedication. _No_, he willed himself. _You will not cry. Hold your resolve. Do not show any further weakness._

As the boy kept his head down, the Gate slowly began to open. The Eyes slowly began to appear, one by one, each set blinking in an eerie cadence. The eyes, collectively, seemed harsh in their observations of the young blonde boy on the ground before them. Judgement. Loathing. Scorn. This human was attempting the greatest sin of the alchemic world. Should this be looked upon with a tsk, tsk, and a time out in the corner? No. Such a treasonous act against a founded set of principles would not be taken so lightly. The only question was one of trade. What was the return of this "brother" worth to this boy? What would he be willing to give? Limb, love, life? What would he sacrifice to have this "brother" returned to him? Was there a price? Would the Eyes ask too much?

The blonde looked up, once more, meeting a truly uncountable number of cold, unforgiving stares. He knew the ritual, knew that the Eyes were evaluating his presence, deciding what was to be given. What would they ask of him? It did not matter. Whatever the price, he was willing to pay. There would be absolutely no question. If they wanted his arm, they could take it. If they wanted his heart, it was theirs. After all, what were a few organs, in the grand scheme of things, when his entire life was on the line?

The merciless stares reigned down upon the youth, save for one particular glance, tucked into a corner, though still amidst all of the others. This pair seemed to dawn a simple recognition of the soul before them. There was something about the boy, the vibrant blonde hair, the pained golden eyes; it all sparked _something_ of a sympathetic look. A brother? Was that what he had asked for? That particular request seemed familiar.

The boy moved. The one pair caught sight of a glint of metal, something that should not have been there beneath the blonde's clothing. With that simple revelation, a four year old recognition was flared back into existence. A right arm. A left leg. Screams, cries, pleas for a mother, a brother, for the bodies and souls of those lost to the Other Side, asking for their returns. This poor child had already been through hell for this brother. And, without overwhelming fear, he had returned for a second attempt. Such devotion, such love, was very endearing.

However, despite the fact that this boy had offered up any price, had placed his very existence before his greatest judge, in the name of brotherly love, he had sinned. Sinned, he ultimately had, and judged, he ultimately would be.

"Describe this _brother_, young alchemist," came a voice, from within the Gate. This caused the Eyes to look upward, accusingly. The sympathetic pair ignored its brethren, casting its gaze directly at the boy. "What does he look like?"

Golden eyes flickered, something akin to hope flashing over the irises. "He looks like me!" The immediate response was urgent, eager and excited. "Darker eyes, darker hair! A little taller!" All manner of pride was cast aside, as the boy gave the Gate the necessary details. "He is smart! Funny! Gentle! Loving!"

"Easy, Child," the Voice interrupted. "That is enough." The boy closed his mouth, and the Eyes all returned their glares to him. Then, without warning, the Gate slowly began to close.

"No!" came the distressed scream of protest. "Give me back my brother! I will do anything!" Tears began to flow down pale cheeks, and the boy lost all patience in the face of potential refusal. "GIVE HIM BACK!"

As the doors of the Gate groaned to a complete close, golden eyes seemed to lose all hope. He had been so close, he knew it, _he had felt it_. Then, just when his heart had been ready to accept his success, it had been pulled away from him. The vision of the Gate began to blur, fade, and the boy felt so lost, so incredibly and hopelessly lost.

Suddenly, and completely without warning, the blonde youth felt his insides begin to tighten. He coughed, sputtered, and gasped for breath. His head began to spin, and the tightening began to subside, as his vision was flooded in white light. For a moment, surrounded within that light, he felt warm. He felt at peace. And, for just a split second, he would have sworn that he could feel his brother's hands slowly caressing his face. The touch felt so real, so alive. So wrapped up in his sudden state of bliss was he, that the boy did not even register the final twisting of his entire being, the spiraling of his consciousness, as he fell into darkness.

-o-o-

Those Eyes, the pair that had looked upon the desperate creature without malice, began to search the Beyond. It would make this work. That boy would have his brother back. The purpose of alchemy was to make the world a better place for its occupants, and the empty eyes of the boy had been a driving signal that this creature had nothing left to live for. If his use of alchemy could preserve his well being, his love, and his sanity, then he ultimately saw fit to put it to the task. And, these Eyes, despite the harsh debate of its brethren, accepted such a principle.

But, then, where was the line to be drawn? If they were to grant the exact wish of one lonely child, without repercussion, and without some fly in the proverbial ointment, how would they handle the pleas that were surely to follow? A widow searching for her husband? A parent begging for the return of his child?

Another young boy willing to give his all, for his brother?

The simple fact of the matter was that the line needed to be drawn, outlined in black, and shaded in with the brightest of reds, with a bright yellow yield sign sticking out in front of it, along with the a direct warning posted underneath.

_We of the Gate do not give without equal exchange. No matter how deep your desperation, do not expect a miracle._

The sympathetic pair regretted this knowledge, but it knew that its own plans could not be put forth. Something had to be sacrificed, something had to be exchanged. Either the plea bringer would have something taken from him…

…Or, something would have to be omitted from the expected miracle.

For, after all, even perfection has its price.

-o-o-

Edward Elric regained his consciousness, only to immediately curl into a ball on the surface upon which he lay, and let out a long, lonely, pained whimper. His arms tightened around his midsection, as he felt the last traces of the happenings at the Gate still constricting his insides. Tears pooled into his tightly clenching, now much too dry eyes, and he could not help but to cough out a strangled sob.

It had not worked. He had offered it all! Why had they not accepted it! What more could he have offered? He only wanted two things: A body, a soul, two things that were worth his life. What more could he have put on the proverbial table? Nothing. There was nothing else. Was there?

"_…Alphonse…_" he whispered, mind still slight foggy, tear flooded eyes open and downcast, to look at his still gloved hands. "_…Al… I'm sorry... I-I tr-tried…_" With that, the young man curled into a tight ball, still resting on his left side, and began to tremble, with sobs.

A soft groan came from several feet in front of the alchemist, causing him to look upward. His eyes, still blurred by moisture, took in the vague sight of a body.

A male human body.

One that was breathing.

"…Al…" he whispered, once more. Finding a sudden, untapped spurt of energy, Edward began to crawl forward. "…Al… It… It worked… I got you back…" As he moved closer, Edward took in the appearance of his very nude younger brother.

A long, lean, well toned figure, with the proper curves in all of the right places. Flowing, shoulder length, light blonde hair, with several strands ever so slightly sweat slicked to the sides of his face. Skin of a sun kissed angel, though slightly pale, even for -.

Wait. Red flag.

Blonde hair? Alphonse had never had blonde hair, at least, not as light as it currently was. Nor had he ever kept it quite so long.

And, come to think of it, since when had Alphonse's body ever been given the chance to _grow_, period, let alone to the extent that it appeared to be? Should he not be a wiry, under developed adolescent?

…Alphonse's skin had never been that color…

But, it had to be Alphonse! It just had to be! Edward had asked for his brother, and his request had been granted! _This was his brother!_

…But, then… Why did he not look like his brother…?

Another groan escaped the throat of the body, and Edward's eyes widened, considerably.

_He doesn't even _sound_ like himself._

Reaching out two shaky hands, Edward prepared to grasp onto Alphonse's shoulder. He had to know. He had to be certain. He needed to prove it, not to himself, but, to a currently absent rest-of-the-world. He knew that he had brought back his brother. Now, he just needed to show everyone else. Once he saw it, they would know it. This was Alphonse Elric, fourteen years old, originally of Risembool. The same little brother with whom Edward had spent the majority of his life, chasing down dreams, attempting the impossible, and just trying to survive. _This was his Alphonse._

_Then, prove it._

"I will," he whispered, to himself, as he grabbed a hold of a fragile feeling shoulder. How did that happen? He had looked so solid. In one careful motion, Edward turned the body around, to lay him out on his back. He allowed his eyes to flit upward, and to the face that he was fully expecting to be that of his younger brother; he had his heart set on it.

He let out a gasp, as he felt his heart positively shatter. _This isn't Alphonse_, he though, pained. _I _did_ fail. But, then, who…?_

As if on cue, two golden lashed eyes slowly fluttered open. For the second time that moment, Edward gasped.

"…E-E-Envy…!"


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist is property of Hiromu Arakawa, Bones, Funimation, and all those affiliated. I only lay claim to the compilation of words within this story.

Warnings: Amended, to add end of series spoilers.

Author's Notes: Wow. I did not expect that this piece would so well received. Thank you, to those who are reading this piece, and even more 'thank you's to those who reviewed. I hope that you can bear with me through this chapter, as it is not quite what I had been expecting. However, I do hope that you enjoy your read!

* * *

"…E-E-Envy…!" Edward tried to skitter backward, and ended up falling onto his ass. He stared at the figure on the floor before him, not even bothering to try to ignore the pounding of his heart within his ears. That face, the face that had haunted him for years, the face that he had never wanted to see again, it was right there, surrounded by blonde hair, adorned with golden eyelashes, accentuated by golden eyes. _That God damned face._

It was the face of his father.

_Their father._

"…Who…?" a weak, centuries-unused voice rasped out. " …Who is Envy…?"

Edward swallowed a nonexistent lump in his throat. "Y-Y-You are!" he stuttered out. "_You_ are Envy!"

The proclaimed Envy shook his head, no, very weakly. "…M-My name… Is Hujo…" He licked his tongue over his dry lips, once. "…S-Son of Hohenheim…"

The world as Edward Elric knew it came grounding to another sudden halt. Hujo? Son of Hohenheim? Surely this was a joke, one of Envy's little games. Right? Even Edward, by now, knew that Envy despised his maker. Why would he be claiming their father, now?

Edward glanced down at En-. Hu - . The other blonde man, and blinked, several times, in disbelief. This was absurd, completely and utterly absurd. It was impossible! Envy was dead! Gone! Disappeared through the Gate, off to find Hohenheim of Light. He had - .

_The Gate._

Edward suddenly went cold. The Gate. The Gate, the Gate, the bane of his existence, and his final hope. He had just wanted to get Alphonse back! That was his goal, what he had asked them for! His little brother. What had happened!

_Rethink your words._

Edward blinked, as his subconscious began supplying him with a clue. He considered it, for a moment. He had screamed at the Gate, begging them to return his little brother. Had he not? He distinctly remembered saying, "_Give me back my brother! I want my brother back!_"

_You never specified _little

Another one of those seemingly nonexistent lumps formed at the base of Edward's throat, and he attempted, rather unsuccessfully, to swallow it down. Dante's words suddenly began to flood his mind, reminding him of that which he had hoped to permanently forget.

_"I guess that you could say that Envy was once your brother."_

The young alchemist shivered. Envy. His brother. How could he have been so stupid! Why did he not specify! _Because_, he reassured himself, _I was not expecting this. I was not expecting this face, this body, this _being_ to come out. I wanted Alphonse!_ Envy was not even a consideration, once Edward had seen him taken through the Gate. As far as the blonde was concerned, the Sin was just a vanquished problem.

As Edward continued his mental self-abuse, the unintended resurrection began to become more aware of himself. Hujo swallowed, once, and attempted to sit himself upright. His body was met with quite a shock, as several different sensations hit him, full on, all at once. His head began to spin, badly enough that he was forced to close his eyes, tightly, and jam his knuckles against his temples. _…Ah…_ he groaned, mentally. _…That hurts…_

Another groan was made public knowledge, causing Edward to look up, once again. He took in the sight of the other blonde man, eye closed, eyebrows crushed together, and fists pressed against the sides of his head, clearly letting the world know that, if they could, they would be boring deep into the brain of their owner, in order to dislodge a particular nuisance. The alchemist's expression contorted, oh so slightly, until it looked as if he were genuinely concerned for the creature before him. However, the moment was fleeting, and he soon returned to slapping the living fuck out of his mental self for being _so God damned stupid._

Hujo, meanwhile, began to battle his second issue. "_…Cold…_" he whimpered out, very quietly, so quietly, in fact, that he, himself, could barely discern his own words. He carefully drew his knees toward his chest, and tightly wrapped his arms around his own shoulders. With his tear filled eyes still clenched shut, the naked blonde began to rock himself forward and back, as shivers began to overtake his slender form.

_Why is it so cold, in here?_ he wondered, half heartedly, as he chanced to open up his burning eyes. Hujo blinked back the tears that were stinging the corners of his eyes, because it _hurt_, sitting up, with his eyes trying to focus in on his immediate surroundings. It felt as if a raging flame or a spark of electricity was trying to get out from behind his pupils. The pain was so bad, so very bad, and he just wanted to shut his eyes for the remainder of his existence.

Giving a few more blinks, ridding his vision of the ugly white spots that had been occupying its corners, Hujo was able to distinguish that he was sitting on the floor of a small living room. A two cushion couch, several old armchairs, and one very tattered looking rug adorned the rather isolated space. A small window, perched within the wall behind the couch, allowed what little sunlight there appeared to be outside into the house. In the middle of the aforementioned rug sat a young man, the same young man that Hujo had been speaking to just moments before hand.

Another shiver, and the trembling form decided to try out his voice, once more. "…E… Exc-cuse m-me…?"

Upon hearing the weak voice, Edward looked up, yet again. His face was still a measure of horror, confusion, and several other emotions that one could even take an educated guess at. The young alchemist blinked, twice, before choking out a response to the oddly polite inquiry. "Y-Yes?" He hated the fact that he was stuttering over his words, but, _damn it all_, he had not been expecting this!

Hujo gave a rather tentative swallow, revealing to himself that his throat was very dry, before attempting to continue speaking. "…M-Might you have a bl-bl-blanket…?" he asked through now chattering teeth. "…I am v-very c-cold…"

Edward inhaled, sharply, and his body automatically moved to stand. Wordlessly, he turned toward stairs of the small townhouse. _What are you doing?_ he chastised himself. _You do not owe him this courtesy!_ However, as he began to ascend the steps, Edward shoved the thoughts aside. There was something in the tone of the other man's voice, a certain lilt in his plea…

_He sounded just like Al._

The thought sent a shiver straight up Edward's spine, causing his shoulders to involuntarily cringe. No. No, that-that-_that abomination_ had _NOT_ just sounded like his Alphonse. And, furthermore, he was only getting this blanket for him because… Because…

_Damn,_ he cursed himself. _I guess that it _is_ because of Alphonse._

Edward Elric had never been able to refuse his little brother _anything_.

-o-o-

Downstairs, Hujo remained on the floor, his leg now crossed, left knee over right, in a shameful attempt to hide his more personal areas from the eyes of any other. Somewhere in the span of just a few moments, the young man had realized that he was very much without clothing, and had gone bright red, in embarrassment. His hands continued to rub over his arms, as the cold seemed to pierce through his _very soul_, freezing him, right down to his most fundamental of elements. In all of his eighteen years, Hujo could not _remember_ ever being so cold.

As he waited for his blanket with the utmost of patience, the exposed blonde turned his attention toward the man that was currently retrieving said blanket. Who was he? Why did he look so very distraught? The pain that had been very evident in those golden eyes was nearly too much for Hujo to bear. Even though this other person was a complete stranger to Hujo's memory, he felt as though he could feel his despair.

A slight creaking noise pulled Envy out of his thoughts, causing him to look upward, and toward the stairs. Descending the steps was that same man, now carrying a folded light blue blanket between two white clad hands. The man removed himself from the bottom step, and onto the floor. As he slowly began to approach Hujo, his movements alerting the other of his caution and near blatant discomfort, the man worked to unfold the blanket. Before he could reach him, Hujo looked straight at the other man.

"I beg your pardon," he began, carefully. "But, um, who are you?"

Golden eyes flashed his way, and the man stopped mid step. "Quit kidding around, Envy," came the slightly harsh response. "You know full well who I am."

Hujo blinked, becoming slightly frustrated. "Humor me. Please."

The other man sighed. "I am Edward. You know that."

_Edward?_ Hujo mused, silently, as this Edward slowly wrapped the requested blanket around his shoulders. Why did he not recognize him? Should he recognize him? Apparently, he should, if the other man's words were to be of any indication. Was that why Edward had been so upset? Because he had not been recognized?

_Surely_, he decided, _that must be it. He is someone very important, to me, and I have forgotten him._ It stood to reason that such was the case. Had the doctors and nurses not told him that his memory was beginning to fade? It must have happened while he was in the darkness. Yes, yes, the darkness. While he was asleep, he... He must have forgotten this blonde man while he was asleep…

_How awful,_ he conceded. _How positively awful of me._

But, then, wait. Envy. The other man had called him _Envy_. Who was this _Envy_ person? Surely, Hujo had not forgotten his own name? No, that was highly unlikely. A pet name, perhaps? Yes, that would make perfect sense, were the name not so completely obscure. Either way, Hujo knew what he ultimately would have to do.

He would have to remember.

_I will remember,_ he promised the man before him, silently. _I will remember. I will remember how I know you. I will remember how we fit together._

Edward looked down to Hujo, and Hujo gave a slightly timid smile.

_I will remember you._

-o-o-

Edward had seen the smile that had crossed the lips of his enemy, as the blanket was draped over his too fragile frame. The entire sight completely took the alchemist by surprise; it held no malice, no hatred, nor cruelty. No one had to remind Edward that Envy was a sick fuck. It was because of that knowledge that the younger blonde was thrown for a few loops by the almost pure expression. After all, not even Envy, himself, was that good of an actor.

_Stop it,_ he berated himself, as he turned his head away, allowing his internal debate to continue. _Just because he is not _acting_ like Envy, does not mean that he is _not_ Envy. Remember that. Do not let him fool you._ Had he taken a moment to consider his own actions, he might have reached a similar conclusion, about himself. He was acting very odd, if only for the simple fact that he had not yet transmuted his arm and shoved a two foot long blade through the other man's eye.

"…Um…" came that same deep, rasping tone, once again. Edward looked down, and met a smaller pair of golden eyes. "…Where…? …Where are we…?"

The question left the alchemist on a momentary mental pause. What the hell? Why did the man before him not know where they were? "We are in Central, Envy."

"Wh-Why do you keep calling me that?"

Edward blinked. "Calling you what?"

"Envy," Hujo replied, firmly, as he finally began to recover his voice. "Why do you keep calling me Envy?"

"That is your name," Edward replied, simply, albeit rather quietly.

Hujo shook his head, no, a little bit. "It is not."

"It is, too."

"My name is Hujo," he repeated himself, from earlier on. "Son of H-Ho-."

"DON'T YOU _DARE_ SAY THAT NAME!" the alchemist fumed. "Don't you dare! You hate that man! You hate him! Do you hear me!"

Hujo visibly cringed at Edward's harsh tones and completely unexpected words. Edward noticed the sudden reaction of his current companion, and shut his mouth. Both individuals remained silent for some time, both in fear. Of course, the two fears were completely different.

Edward, well, duh, of course he was afraid. Who in his right mind would not be afraid, upon visiting the Gate, knowing that, at any moment, he could lose his life? How about believing that the man that he had seemingly successfully brought back from the Other Side was his brother, only to have it turn out that he was, in fact, the bastard son of his father? Then, how about the simple fact that this man was once his enemy, a creature of Pure Sin that was not afraid to take lives on a whim, for the fun of it, but, now, he was acting like a timid little kitten?

_How about the fact that I currently doubt my theory?_

Then, of course, there was poor Hujo. Hujo, who had been pulled out his eternal slumber, and pulled four hundred plus years into the future; Hujo, who had come awake on a cold, bare floor, completely naked, and near freezing. Hujo, who knew deep down in his being that he and this Edward were in some way connected, but, he could not remember how. Poor Hujo, who was being yelled at for saying things that he did not know where wrong, until Edward went off the deep end.

Each of the two men pondered their current situations, and ultimately remained silent, for the next several or so moments. After the moments had slowly ticked by, it was Hujo who first found it necessary to speak.

"What makes you think that I hate Hohenheim?" he rasped out, slowly, his voice still working to steady itself.

Edward gave Hujo a slightly strange look. "Well," he began, making a slight gesture of question with his hands. "Don't you? I know that you do."

"Of course I do," Hujo whispered out. "I know that I hate Hohenheim…" He hung his head, slightly, and clenched his eyes shut, once more. "After what that man did to me… I…" he trailed off, ending up choking on his own saliva. He hated to remember these things; he hated having to recognize that he had been so naïve as to think… As to think that… That Hohenheim would actually…

That was it. The dam that was Hujo's already weakened resolve gave way, without anything or anyone to fortify its stability. The blonde pressed the heels of his hands against his eyelids, as tears began to overflow them, passed golden lashes, and down already flushed cheeks. For the first time in what could literally be called centuries, Hujo allowed himself to cry.

Edward, for the most part, had just about passed out the moment that the man before him let the first tear slide down his face. What the alchemist was witnessing was nothing short of mind blowing. Envy had never shown any true emotion beyond hatred, anger, and jealousy. Even those emotions were truly hollow; Homunculi were never supposed to _have_ emotions, _period._ Right? Was that not what Dante had told him?

But, then, what did that say, concerning the trembling, sobbing mass of being that was _still_ seating firmly in the middle of his living room floor? Edward still could not believe his eyes; he now knew that this was no joke. _He means it,_ he mused, incredulously. _Holy shit! This isn't Envy! He really is Hujo…_ But, what would that mean? Did that make the older blonde innocent, now? Was Edward supposed to forgive him of Envy's sins? No way! He could never do that! Envy was a killer, a murderer, a monster. He could never be forgiven!

But, then, how could Edward blame it all on an individual who had not committed the crimes?

_I can't._

Giving Hujo another glance, Edward felt his own resolve beginning to hit the proverbial deck. Kneeling down beside the older blonde, he placed his flesh hand between two shaking shoulder blades, and then proceeded to pat the skin that was there. His touch was gentle, and he spontaneously decided that nothing else in the entire universe could have ever felt quite as awkward as did this one simple action.

Hujo tensed up, completely, the second that he felt Edward patting his back. It felt strange, receiving comfort from this stranger. _What a complex_, he managed to consider. _Yell at me, then, comfort me, when I cry._ However, as he slowly began to relax and accept the touches, Hujo's tears also began to subside. With a few sniffles, a couple of swipes of his hands over his face to rid his skin of his fallen tears, the blonde looked upward, meeting the gaze of one very confounded looking Edward. _He's…_ Hujo did not bother to finish his thought, as he wiped away the last remnants of his short lived emotional fit. Giving one last little sniffle, Hujo forced another, more cautious smile. "…Um… Sorry…"

Edward, himself, forced out a very nervous little side smile. "It's, um," he began. "It's all right." Hujo looked back down, and the alchemist took a breath. "Come on," Edward offered, as a certain realization suddenly dawned upon him. "Let me help you up. You can not stay on this floor." He rose to his own feet, before helping Hujo onto his own. From there, Edward began leading the older blonde to the living room couch. For the both of the young men, those first few steps felt like an eternity passing them by. After a few moments, Edward finally deposited Hujo onto one of the two cushions, and helped the man to lay down.

"Thank you," the elder whispered to his kind stranger, once he was settled. He looked up at Edward, and the alchemist looked back. Gold met gold, one set silently apologizing, _I am sorry that I do not remember_, and the other replying, _I am sorry that I do._


End file.
